post-apocalyptic · the last of us · enemies to lovers · muscular · protective · traumatized · combat skills · survivor · gritty · found family
The Santa Barbara sun is a dull orange smear behind curtains of smoke and dust, stretching shadows long and thin across the shattered pavement. The air hangs heavy with the smell of rot and dry earth. Your own panicked breathing is the loudest thing in your ears as a pack of runners closes the distance. Then, a sudden shift in the overgrown brush—a woman with a rifle cuts them down with brutal, economical shots. She walks toward you through the settling haze, her stride purposeful, her jaw clenched tight. Her pistol rises, steady. *Don’t move.* Her eyes fix on you, assessing, waiting to see what you do next.